States of Mind
by whathobertie
Summary: A journey through how they deal with the fallout. (Post 'Killer App' fic) Cal/Gillian, drama. #LieToMeLives
1. From Virginia to West Virginia

**TITLE:** States of Mind **  
GENRE:** Drama **  
CHARACTERS:** Gillian, Cal, Emily, Torres, Loker, Wallowski **  
PAIRING:** Cal/Gillian **  
RATING:** PG-13 **  
SPOILERS:** None **  
WORDS:** 6,400 **  
SUMMARY:** A journey through how they deal with the fallout. (Post 'Killer App' fic)

* * *

 **Virginia [think gray skies and heavy waves]**

Eventually it comes down to one thing. Two things. Three things, maybe.

She tells her about the things that matter in life. That matter to _her_. She just sits there and listens, while she talks in a reassuring murmur and nods to herself from time to time, looking out towards the rough Atlantic sea he took her to. _Why not a nice place_ , she had wondered, but he had probably wanted something nicer as well. It's just not how things always work out. They sometimes end up all wrong and unexpected, leaving scars and bruised memories.

"You know she's gone, don't you, love?" he asks gently while sitting down next to her.

Of course she knows that. She's not stupid, despite what his looks might be suggesting lately. "Yeah," she therefore says, but it comes out just as a rasping, tired sound.

"It wasn't your fault, love."

He really needs to stop the pep talk.

* * *

 **North Dakota [think white wherever you look]**

Some of his best memories are desolate of some sort. Like hugging his mother for the last time on a cold, rainy day, or walking out of the Pentagon for good with not the least inkling of what to do next. He remembers meager landscapes of wars and not all of it is entirely bad.

He remembers being stuck in an epic snow storm on his way up to Canada, cold and close to the point of being frightened. Nothing but white, long, stretching roads with no other soul he ever encountered.

Sometimes he longs for it, and sometimes he doesn't.

* * *

 **New York [think water rushing down cold and untamable]**

He finds her on the rooftop and what is there to hide? Not the tears, not the pain. It has been raining for days, or at least that's what it feels like, and she just watches the water being poured over the city.

"You ever been to Niagara Falls?" she wants to know from him.

"No," he answers, "too touristy for my taste."

"Well, there's a lot of water there, too. Never runs dry."

* * *

 **Hawaii [think warm and cozy sunshine embracing everything]**

He doesn't know how to behave around her anymore. Everything he says could be the wrong thing, everything he does an insensitive lapse. Well, nothing of that is entirely new, because it basically describes him, but now is even less the time to be that person.

"Do you wanna take some time off?" he asks awkwardly while they are both reading the case notes Torres assembled for an important meeting in just half an hour.

"And go where?"

"I heard it's nice on Hawaii. Not that I would know anything about nice places."

She starts to smile. "You would hate it on Hawaii."

Yeah, he would.

* * *

 **Maryland [think white-washed picket fences]**

She deliberately choses a therapist outside of the craziness that D.C. embodies too often and too strongly. Her car takes her there—through quiet suburban neighborhoods of the prettiest kind—but in her mind she feels an overwhelming resistance.

Talking isn't something she wants to do. Yet. Or maybe never. Not with anybody but _her_ in the safety of her own head. Maybe him, but that's it.

* * *

 **Colorado [think mountains touching the sky]**

Emily is constantly asking about how Gillian is doing, but what she really means to ask, is whether he has told her already. Of course not. How could he?

For him it is the equivalent of crossing the freakin' Rockies, only to find that maybe there is nothing but meager desert on the other side.

* * *

 **Nevada [think flashy, blinking lights]**

They are asked back to Las Vegas to help with a case not long after _that_ day and they really need the money. Damn it.

He promises a lot of things and he really has been trying hard lately. Too hard, if she's being honest, but for now she just can't bring herself tell him that yet.

"No funny business," he reassures her on the plane again.

"You realize you have a gambling problem, don't you?" she just says, because by now she really is quite sure that he does have one.

He takes it the wrong way, though. Not as concern of a friend, but as a reason to be snide and give her clipped, detached answers throughout all of the trip that follows. She doesn't know it any other way whenever they've been here or somewhere else with a poker table nearby. Yet she can't help being concerned about him.

* * *

 **Louisiana [think blues music floating in the air]**

His office; as dark as his mood. She had chosen to ignore him in Vegas and close the distance again in Washington. _Why_ — that is a question that always lingers so closely over their heads, but in nine years there haven't existed any precise answers. Just like their science never produces the precision a respectable scientist would demand.

When she comes in, it just takes the tiniest fragment of a second for her to adjust the steps she makes to the gentle beat of the music. She either wants it or it simply happens.

"I was just concerned," she explains sitting down. "And I didn't think we should go back to that place."

"I'm sorry." He means it, but really, there is nothing more to say.

"Yeah." She stares him down and he knows she can read him, even when he tries very hard to make it impossible for her. "You know, it wasn't your fault, either. Claire, I mean."

"Maybe." He doesn't shrug his shoulders.

* * *

 **Pennsylvania [think padded cells and lots of screaming]**

Somebody from the state prison out in Wayne County is supplying Cal with regular news from the guy that killed Claire (she cannot use his name; not even in her head). She sees some of the reports lying on his desk from time to time, but he is eager to let them disappear whenever he notices her looking.

She knows Cal had a hand in getting the guy to Waymart and locked up in the psychiatric hospital there instead of just a normal offenders ward. He's never said anything, though, and she isn't quite sure whether she wants to know whatever strings he pulled and how exactly he did that.

He probably thinks he's doing something good for her (and she appreciates it, she really does), but to be honest, she couldn't care less what is happening to this guy.

* * *

 **West Virginia [think country roads and wooden huts]**

They are losing cases because he is not at the top of his game. The numbers look bad and it has started to be a vicious circle of financial pressure, dwindling motivation and contracts that are never signed because of it.

When Torres scores a case in West Virginia and the two of them are crossing a small river whose surface is reflecting the dramatic struggle between the sun and the clouds, he is reminded of the past. They worked cases like this in the beginning—just Gillian and him somewhere in provincial backwater.

Torres clears her throat on the passenger seat and he can't wait to hear what she has to say. "I know it's been a tough couple of weeks, but we really need to snag this contract and bring in some money."

"Thank you for telling me something I already know."

She rolls her eyes. "Foster asked me to report back on you. Sometimes I hate being stuck between you two guys."

He just stares ahead and grabs the steering wheel a little harder.

* * *

 ** _Journey to be continued..._**


	2. From California to Indiana

**California [think constant ups & downs between cable cars]**

He brings her dinner whenever she is working late and he always gets it right. It's truly a talent of his. Today it's Chinese and he even remembered that she likes her number twenty-four to go with a ginger ale.

They mostly eat in silence on the couch of her office, but when he finally opens his fortune cookie and crumples up the piece of paper immediately, she wants to know what he is thinking.

"Did you know," he starts as if hosting a science program on TV, "that fortune cookies were first imported to China in the 1990's? Most people know that the modern version of them was most likely invented in San Francisco by a Japanese guy, but it strikes me as odd that we think it's quintessentially Chinese and they never even knew what these things were until sometime in the 90's."

"Did the Chinese like them?"

"No," he laughs, "they thought they were too American. Funny how the world works."

Funny indeed. Today is a good day. And not only because her fortune cookie tells her so.

* * *

 **Mississippi [think sleepy bottomlands]**

Loker is demonstrating the nationwide entanglements of a Ponzi scheme that they are trying to uncover for the FBI, on a large map of the United States.

Cal is trying hard to keep his eyes open, but after another night of mostly fruitless tossing and turning, it's a battle he is likely going to lose. Whenever his eyes open again a little wider, they fall on a point of the map where it says 'Mississippi'.

He doesn't think he's ever been there, but isn't too sure, because some borders are blurred in his mind. However, he is reminded of geography tests in school, when foreign countries seemed so far away from his South London reality and when he wondered why a state like Mississippi had so many unnecessary double letters. You never knew where to put them.

His eyes are closing again.

* * *

 **Maine [think rocky coastlines and picturesque waterways]**

He apologizes for taking her to stormy Virginia the other week. He jokingly says he should have taken her to Maine or some other state that knows how to do nice coastlines. He still could, is what he suggests with a wink.

Or maybe he isn't joking. She's not sure.

* * *

 **South Dakota [think monumental gray stone]**

He's not sure about any of this. So far his advances aren't going anywhere and of course he can't blame her. She's got other worries and for once maybe she is just glad that he isn't one of them. One of her liabilities.

What clings to his mind instead, are the setbacks (well, Vegas mostly).

When imagining the future, he just sees empty eyes staring ahead into uncertainty, despite everything that was; all the achievements of the past. A bit like Mount Rushmore, he thinks.

He wonders if he could be the architect of any kind of future at all.

* * *

 **Massachusetts [think water tasting fairly of Darjeeling]**

She declines his invitation to try a new place in Georgetown for dinner and goes home to read a book about the Boston Tea Party leading the way to the American Revolution instead. It feels like the right thing to do, but she can barely concentrate on the words, reading the same paragraphs again and again.

She's not in the mood for romance novels, either. In fact, she's not in the mood for anything, and she already dreads the moment of having to say that out loud during therapy.

* * *

 **Alaska [think smoldering cone where fire and ice meet]**

Getting new information from Waymart goes along with a strange satisfaction for him, but in the end it's never good enough to really appease the root of his anger. The sizzling fury coming from somewhere within himself and feeling in some parts blatantly obvious like Death Valley, and in others hidden away like an Alaskan volcano under the snow cover.

He sees him on the other side, but there's always the glass between the two of them. Maybe that's for the better.

* * *

 **Florida [think lemons that life is giving you]**

Sunday morning dates with Emily usually always brighten up her mood. This day is no different. Her laughter is infectious and the Key lime pie they ordered with not one hint of a bad conscience is heavenly.

Emily is elegantly tiptoeing around every dark topic and not for the first time Gillian is thinking she should give Cal regular private lessons. Maybe an hour a day would do.

"So has he asked you to join us for our Easter Sunday brunch?" she wants to know at one point, but Gillian can only shake her head in reply.

"Oh, okay", she says and dabs her mouth with the napkin.

* * *

 **Washington [think top of the world]**

Em is letting him have it. Again.

"Darling, it's not so easy," he just tries to make her understand and is a little desperate indeed.

"Yes, it is, 'cause it's really just three simple words. It's not like you have to ask her to marry you on top of Mount Rainier. That would be silly. You'd never make it up to Mount Rainier."

"Well, thank you very much. So encouraging."

* * *

 **Arkansas [think believing in a place called Hope]**

By now things are running more normal again at the Lightman Group. At least everybody has stopped staring and handling her with kid gloves. The numbers still look alarmingly bad, though.

She's going through a couple of options for cold calling with Ria, but neither of them has much hope. Every second option: a lost cause with no business to snatch or with ties long cut already.

"Do we have to lay off some people? Lightman said something like that the other day."

"Well, he shouldn't have."

Torres just goes quiet for a bit, but after a couple more eliminated options, she just looks defeated. "There's a city in Arkansas called Hope. Maybe we should start looking for work there."

Gillian shrugs her shoulders. "Hometown of Bill Clinton. Maybe we can find some political scandal over there. Where there's politics, there are liars."

* * *

 **Indiana [think cultivated flower fields]**

It's the first time he sees the grave at close range. The day of the funeral he kept his distance and after that he always found excuses. He knows Gillian comes here a lot.

He puts down some white tulips (because everyone he knows likes tulips) and tries not to read the messages shrink-wrapped or laminated that lean against the grave stone. It would remind him too much of Emily and he just can't imagine losing her. The pain he feels is real, but he knows he could never know what those close to Claire go through.

Pale pink peonies lie next to where he put the tulips. They are beautiful and full of life—probably just like she was. He wonders who got them for her at this time of the year.


	3. From Ohio to Connecticut

**Ohio [think close margins and unknown outcomes]**

She hasn't told him about the thoughts of leaving the company and doing something that is not entirely based on exposing lies. He'll tell her that this is not all they do—that emotions and their outward traces are much more complex than this. But that's the whole point: emotions are one hell of a complex structure. Hers are anyway.

One day she feels like walking up to him and just getting it over with. But the next she feels like holding on to what they built and finding the good bits in it again.

Like a swing state; going this way or the other. Nobody can tell before the big day has finally come.

* * *

 **Utah [think reddish sandstone so out of this world]**

He has strange dreams. Of public swimming pools, of long corridors he is running along without ever reaching her, of gigantic neon-colored rubber balls squashing him and knocking the air from his lungs, of red deserts that he is crossing and finding out that the rocks are covered in blood.

He wakes up a little disheartened every time, but he goes on. It's what he does.

Maybe it's the punishment for his behavior of the last few months. It's coming to get him.

* * *

 **Texas [think one star on a flag blowing in the wind]**

She's gathering some papers from the big conference table where they had just gone through the staff briefing. She stops to look at him and he comes to a halt, too. Almost afraid of what she has to say.

"Stop making allusions to the staff that we might need to fire people, Cal. Their loyalty is all we have."

"They're all grown up," he retorts, "they can handle to truth."

She agrees with a murmur and disagrees at the same time. "They can, but there's a tipping point at which loyalty breaks."

Blue is for loyalty, white is for purity, and red is for bravery. She can't help but think about these three colors and their symbolism.

* * *

 **Oregon [think bald eagles circling the seacoast]**

He knows she did not only talk about their employees. _Their loyalty is all we have._

 _My_ _loyalty is all_ _you_ _have._ That's what she was saying between the more obvious lines, reminding him of standoffs in the hallway, cat(s) and mouse, and being clean like a whistle. Loyal to a fault.

He's in her personal space and keeping her at arm's length at the same time. Even to him that's a mystery. He feels sorry and then he doesn't.

 _Alis volat propriis_ —She flies with her own wings. One day she might do it without him next to her.

* * *

 **New Jersey [think flashy, blinking lights – well yeah, a bit like Vegas]**

She sees them sneaking out together a lot recently. Either to work a case behind her back or to sleep together. Possibly even both.

For the longest time she has wondered what exactly he sees in Wallowski, but the thoughts are just bringing her down and in the end—so she concluded—there might not even be an answer. Not even one he has to offer.

She finds a receipt from Atlantic City in his car, while adjusting the passenger seat, and somehow knows he didn't go alone. She lets it drop back to the gap between the seat and the door and never mentions it.

* * *

 **Wyoming [think least populated state]**

She called _him_. (After 911 that was.) Did she ever consider anyone else? How many people could she have potentially called? Was it because he is her partner, the one working the case with her, or because she needed him at that exact point in time?

He lies awake pondering these questions.

* * *

 **North Carolina [think hurricane season]**

Therapy is going well. There's less of hearing Claire's voice and more of accepting that she is not responsible for the horrible outcome of a case gone wrong. Nobody could have predicted that direction.

She still struggles with thoughts about having done a personal favor on company time, though. Cal does it all the time, mixing personal things and business until it gets oh-so-complicated, but when she does it, it ends in disaster.

Like a hurricane hitting you unprotected.

* * *

 **Arizona [think millions of gallons of water held back at Hoover Dam]**

"For how long are you going to openly deceive her with me and toy with her feelings?" Wallowski asks behind him without any emotion he can detect in her voice.

He just grunts, pushes back the duvet until he can sit up and search for his clothes on the floor.

"I think it's quite funny how much you tend to believe that nobody knows what's going on in your head."

She's not giving up, is she? "Good thing _you_ apparently know me so well."

She snorts again. "I know that the amount of emotions you're holding back behind that ever-so-cool and nonchalant façade will one day break like a dam. I'm still undecided whether it will be beautiful or something to fear."

* * *

 **Georgia [think having a dream and letting freedom ring from Stone Mountain]**

He asks her if she wants to have takeaway lunch with him down at the Lincoln Memorial, and it can only be because he feels bad about something. She knows him. She just doesn't know what it is yet.

He says little and she has to pull the words out of him each individually, it seems. So she settles for the silence and it's actually nice sitting on the steps with the sun on their faces, looking down at the reflecting pool.

Like freedom.

* * *

 **Connecticut [think land of steady habits]**

He hasn't answered any of Wallowski's calls lately, and yes, it's all quite childish. She informs him with a text message that she's going to Connecticut for a couple of weeks to help her ill mother who lives on the brink of Bridgeport.

He's not sure why she's telling him that, because they are neither an item, nor does he want to know.

He deletes the message and thinks about the controlled water delivery of a dam.


	4. From Tennessee to South Carolina

**Tennessee [think clinking whiskey glasses]**

They finally land a big case. Good money, interesting investigations. It's a wrongful conviction with political entanglements all to the top of Washington's powerhouse.

It requires them to spend every hour available together—sitting in courtrooms, meeting with the defense attorneys, and watching thousands of hours of video footage from the last 27 years. It's exhausting and exhilarating at the same time.

"You're sure you wanna do that?" he asks one time too much for her taste, but the concern on his face is genuine, so it's hard to put any blame on him.

"Yeah, it's good having something to do again. A real case."

The celebration they have with two finger's breadth of whiskey is reserved. There's a lot of work to do.

* * *

 **Vermont [think leading producer of maple syrup in the States]**

"Where's Wallowski?" she asks casually while going through one of the case files. "Haven't seen her around for a while."

By now the tiny, windowless room inside the courthouse that they got assigned to work on the defense strategy along with two of Washington's best lawyers, almost feels like home. The air is already stuffy enough, but her question makes it even harder to breathe.

He repositions the glasses on his nose and keeps on scribbling notes on a piece of paper. Only that now they don't make sense anymore.

"Gone to take care of her ill mother." Any attempt of lying would just backfire.

"You keep in touch?" she wants to know.

"Nope," he just replies and thinks that this isn't a syrupy love story. Not between Wallowski and him, anyway. In fact, he doesn't know what it is.

She lets the topic go.

* * *

 **Kansas [think breadbasket of America]**

A lot had happened since the day Claire died. They had been closer than ever in a way, and then further apart from each other than ever before in another. Up and down, up and down. There are no easy explanations, and there's no easy blame or even an easy solution. Little about them is easy.

All she knows, is that she doesn't want them to break apart. However hard he makes it on her sometimes (and she surely makes it hard on him as well)—what they have is a treasure to keep.

She realizes it looking at him during one of the court hearings. Deep in thought, reading codes exposed on seemingly innocent faces, thinking about the strategies they could adopt.

She feels the seeds cautiously growing again—the seeds of _them_. He looks over to her and wiggles his eyebrows.

* * *

 **Alabama [think Bloody Sunday]**

Sometimes he watches her hands and for a moment he is afraid, that he might still find blood on them. Of course he never does.

* * *

 **Missouri [think Elephant Rocks State Park]**

Her therapist and her have finally plowed their way through the depths of her feelings, leading to the elephant in the room. Up until now he was referred to as her _partner_ , or simply _Cal_ , but now Judy is pressing her to come up with more terms.

 _Friend_ , is what she mentions first, and Judy asks her why she's never used that word before.

She shrugs her shoulders. "Is that important?"

"I don't know. Could be."

She silently thinks of more words and actually comes up with some.

* * *

 **Illinois [think the Windy City]**

It's a bad day in court. He would love to stand up and yell how this guy is lying through his perfectly white, shiny teeth, but it would just get him a dismissal from the court premises and not help anyone. He clenches his fist instead.

By now this case is personal and he wonders if that is because he is still looking for some kind of revenge on another one that became truly personal.

When they step outside a couple of hours later, the relentless wind pushes the rain right into their faces. He holds up his jacket over both of their heads and they run through the puddles until they both start to laugh.

* * *

 **Delaware [think the Wedge, or no-man's-land between Mason-Dixon and the Twelve-Mile Circle]**

When they make a rare visit to their offices at the Lightman Group, he has two more letters from the correctional facility in Wayne County on his desk. She sees them, but this time she doesn't ignore them.

She sits down while he is still standing and soon enough he is sat down, too. She almost wills him into it and he complies with the reluctance of somebody who knows he can't resist his counterpart in the end. But he would want to, that's clear.

"Those letters," she taps her finger on one of them buried under other paperwork, "the ones from Wayward…" She doesn't finish the sentence, because she doesn't even know what she wants to say or wants to know.

"I made sure they put him in the psych ward."

She nods. "I know that. I'm trying to understand what you're getting out of it. It's not in our hands, Cal."

"That bit was," he lets her know grimly.

* * *

 **Oklahoma [think driving through beautifully creepy, abandoned ghost towns]**

He calls his contact at the prison two days later, letting the guy know that he won't need any more updates. He finishes it off with some good old pleas of making the bastard suffer nonetheless.

* * *

 **New Hampshire [think home]**

He sits right next to her in the tiny, stuffy room with nothing to see and nothing to do except work, and he feels like home. Sometimes he does that to her.

* * *

 **South Carolina [think firing the first shots of the Civil War on Fort Sumter]**

Sometimes when he looks at her now, he tries to think of this one specific moment in the past where he snapped; where he decided to work against her instead of with (or even for) her. Vegas? Burns? Frozen assets? Or something long before that?

It might be a combination of all of the above, but the more he thinks about it, the more he sees the deception he is trying to establish within himself. The long con, all worked out.

With a team of swindlers (several versions of himself from nice guy to utter arse), as well as props (like gambling money and unwritten books), sets (showdowns in industrial wastelands and waiting rooms of porn productions), extras (yeah, Clara and Wallowski), costumes (hart hats and mental hospital gowns), and scripted lines ( _"You mess with my finances again, you and I are through."_ )

He fired the first shots a long time ago and the war drags on. Mostly the one within himself, but the visible eruptions are still there.

Maybe it's time to wave the white flag.


	5. From Wisconsin to Idaho

**Wisconsin [think rapids sweetened with cranberries]**

They lose the case as the jury finds the defendant guilty once again and three months of incredibly hard work go to waste. She can feel him collapse inwardly next to her on the wooden bench of the courtroom, but he doesn't look at her.

The good thing is that the lawsuit put them back on D.C.'s investigative landscape and they are offered more cases than ever before, also thanks to a lot of media coverage and Cal's witty interviews, that often made her smile from behind the cameras. Still, in the end they would have rather wanted to win.

He holds her hand for a moment while they leave the hustle and bustle of the courtroom a bit later.

* * *

 **Montana [think Triple Divide Peak]**

The outcome of the jury decision was not in his hands. Beyond his reach, so to speak. All he could do was put his best work to it and he truly believes that he did. They both did.

Now it is time to accept the defeat. He calls Emily and tells her about it, and the warm, accentuated way in which she puts things into perspective, makes him feel better immediately.

When he's sitting in the barely-lit kitchen a little while later, he thinks about how other things in life are not beyond his reach. How he can shape them with his own hands, words and behavior. How the water could still flow in different directions and end up in entirely different parts of the world, but at least he could make a good guess based on experiences.

Why not put his best work to them, too?

* * *

 **New Mexico [think Truth or Consequences]**

She feels like the end of the strenuous case can also be the beginning of something new. A new-found honesty about what she feels and needs, and making it more clear to the people around her. She has committed to that much in therapy and now it's time to put it into practice.

They're talking about which cases to take—being in the luxurious position of being able to choose—and she just blurts it out without thinking too much for once.

"I was thinking about leaving the company in those weeks after Claire's death."

He nods. "Yeah, I was guessing something like that was going on."

"Basing everything on lies, truths, and those complicated worlds in-between; it gets to me, you know. We've seen a lot of bad things and learned a lot about the ugly sides of humankind."

He thinks about it for a while, not saying anything and looking out towards the skyline of Washington instead. Then he gets up and walks over to her on the other side of the desk, taking the second chair next to her and slouching in it in his typical way.

"I like to think we also helped a lot of people. But yeah, I get what you're saying."

* * *

 **Minnesota [think clear blue water or clouded blue water depending on pronunciation]**

Now that she's told him one of her truths, he can feel that she wants him to do the same. She's not pushing it blatantly, but in a way she is, and it's never a good idea to corner him with just about anything. He realizes that much about himself.

They are standing in the doorway of her office and he can feel it again. His instinctive reaction is to figuratively push her away and re-establish an arm's length of distance between her and his feelings. At the same time, he is so close, the term _personal space_ almost loses its meaning.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" she asks.

He just shakes his head with a serious expression, trying to decide whether her eyes are a clear blue or clouded blue (or maybe not really blue at all). "No."

Then he puts a kiss right on her lips and leaves her with the faint sound of a _sorry_.

* * *

 **Rhode Island [think historic Crescent Park Carousel]**

On the outside, he is no different. Contrary to her expectations, he does not evade her. He even asks her to help him with the assessment of a tricky video tape, and while they are working together in the confined space of his office, he does not once let on about the fact that something had happened.

She doesn't know what to make of it all.

They go round and round in the way they've known for years. The way that feels comfortable. Chasing each other.

* * *

 **Michigan [think center of the automotive industry]**

She seems truly bewildered by his behavior, so he feels it's time to up his game in the most honest way. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Gotta live with both results.

He is standing in front of the door to her house, waiting for her to reply to his knock. When she opens the door, she looks alarmed. "Anything happened?"

"Nah," he makes clear and takes a step towards her. "I was thinking. When we went to Virginia, the weather was really dreadful and I wanted it to be nicer, you know."

She still looks at him as if he spoke in a foreign language she doesn't know a single word of. "You remember going to the coast, right?" he checks just to make sure.

"Yeah, I remember that. I'm just trying to figure out where you're going with that."

"Well, I was thinking, we should go on a road trip. Find a nicer place." He leaves it at that, because every word would just make it more complicated without adding to what he really wants to say (that _finding a nicer place_ really is just a metaphor for them). There is a reason she is the language expert.

He waits for her to say something and tries to establish anything on her face. When he fails, he tries to minimize the desperation on his own face instead. It's a long while before she speaks.

"Are you serious? What about the Group? The new cases?" Three questions instead of a _yes_ or _no_. Interesting.

"I'm trying to let go a bit. In fact, I think it was you who told me to."

She keeps looking at him, but she also seems no closer to any answer. Before confidence deserts him completely, he takes the step back again, giving her space and time.

"Well, think of some place you want to go to, love."

* * *

 **Kentucky [think shooting range and hitting the target]**

A few days later, she still doesn't know whether he is serious. Well, not until he rolls a pin board with a big map of the United States right into her office—the one she recognizes from Loker's lab.

He puts a dart into her hand and looks at her expectantly. "You still haven't told me, where you wanna go, love. Thought I should speed things up a little and make your choice easier."

He steps behind her, grabs her shoulders and positions her so that she stands in front of the map, but still a few feet away. Then he covers her eyes with her hands. "You just shoot."

Her world is dark, but he has her back. She laughs, trying to shake her head, and aims towards the uncertain, letting the dart go from the grasp of her fingers a few seconds later.

He takes his hands away and they both look at the result.

"I don't even know which state that is," he says.

* * *

 **Iowa [think Interstate 80 rolling through farmland of rich green, yellow and orange]**

The picnic table where they're enjoying their packaged supermarket dinner in the warm, fading light of the sunset is nicely tucked away from the interstate, so it's quiet and feels almost remote. A family of five is sitting a few tables away with an array of dinner plates that they are starting to envy.

It's been already more than a thousand miles until here. Sixteen hours on the road, two nights spent between here and D.C., and four detours to visit sights along the way. One of which they never found. (He still blames it on her map reading skills. She says, it's his inability to listen, though.)

He has felt more open than ever with her, as soon as they left the borders of Washington. As if a weight he didn't know he carried, got somehow lifted from his shoulders. More open, but also more vulnerable.

The sunlight is painting her face with a magical glow. He can't help but stare and for once she doesn't seem to mind.

"I have a hard time dealing with all that and I don't know why. She was a wonderful girl. And you're my best friend. My best everything." Just a couple of loosely connected sentences that fall out of his mouth with too much over-analyzing.

She nods and smiles warmly against the golden light. "I like it when you're being honest." Just that.

"I'm afraid of being an open book to someone. Which is idiotic in your case, 'cause you already know more about me than anyone else."

She comes over, so they sit at the same side of the picnic table, and kisses him without saying _sorry_.

The dam, the water, the emotions. It is all beautiful instead of something to fear.

* * *

 **Nebraska [think Highway Patrolman and Reason to Believe]**

As soon as they cross the border into Nebraska and a sign along the interstate announces it, he puts on Bruce Springsteen.

"You've been waiting for this all along, didn't you?"

"Yep," he confirms and grins.

She puts up her feet on the dashboard, enjoying the sun warming her face.

* * *

 **Idaho [think Gem State, because nearly every known type of gemstone has been found there]**

They drive into the town with the name of Mackay and get out of the car on the wide main street. On their way here, Wikipedia told them that the place had a population of 517 at the last census. And even that is hard to believe with the quietness around them.

The sparse buildings are flat and grey, some mountains looming in the background, but nothing too spectacular.

"That is—," he waits a bit, "somehow anticlimactic."

She laughs and puts her sunglasses on. "It is. What are we even doing here?"

He shrugs his shoulders and inspects a few old signs nailed to a decayed wooden pole, one of them pointing in the direction of a motel. "I don't know. You chose this place."

"With a dart. While you were covering my eyes," she clarifies.

"Well yeah, as I said: You chose it," he teases her again and walks over to her side of the car until their hands are almost touching.

She looks around once more, feeling a bit lost, but having to suppress a fit of uncontrollable laughter at the same time. "There's nothing here."

He smirks at her with the kind of charm that is simply irresistible. "Well, we are. Good enough, eh?"

Yeah, it probably is. Because eventually it comes down to two things. _Them_.

 **THE END**

* * *

 ** _A/N: I really had no idea where this story would lead me. They took me on their journey as well. Thanks for reading and coming along!_ _—Steph_**


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